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Heavy is the Head: Episode 1
''Heavy is the Head is the first episode in multi-part series by Meilir Brevil. It retells the events of ''Heavy is the Head I ''through Heavy is the Head VIII from his perspective, as part of the continuing adventures of him and Taeris Redcrash. The book was wildly popular in Cespar, as it praised the Queen, Underelven monarchy, and the island kingdom itself. it was also well-recieved among past fans, because rumors of Taeris and Meilir being fugitives had run rampant throughout the greater Empire, and avid readers had been eager for news. It was summarily banned by the Imperial Crown for it's harsh criticism of the Emperor and Prince Aerion. Excerpts Page 1 What do I say about weddings, dear readers? That the best of them involve some murder, so long as the murder in question is not me. You’ll remember at the wedding of Lord Thessian, Taeris and I were the targets of a vicious assassination plot, and only survived through my wits and the Redcrash’s careful planning. Well here we were again, at the wedding of Prince Aerion and Princess Dera, and I daresay, things were about to get unprecedently heated for us. No doubt you’ve heard of Aerion’s massacre of former Blackfyre loyalists by now. Well, Twinblade and I were at the center of it. And quite the adventure it was. Page 24 “Meilir Brevil!” Prince Aerion called down from seat high atop the dais in the ballroom of the Imperial palace. I spun from where I stood, to face the prince. “Taeris Redcrash!” Twinblade looked past me, to the dais. “For crimes against the Empire, you two shall be executed!” “What crimes?” I asked, shocked by this development, for it had come out of nowhere. I knew Aerion was no spring flower, but never I had acted against the boy prince. “Thought crimes! I have used my insidious magic to read your mind, and discover you harbor secret ambitions!” I gasped. What an accusation! And such a thing was far from the truth. It was clear was Aerion truly wanted was the honor of killing Taeris Redcrash and Meilir Brevil himself. The villain! There was a magnificent thud as doors at both ends of the room swung open to admit ranks upon ranks of Imperial guards. There armor and weapons clanked in unison, drowning out all other noise, as they surrounded the guests and, more importantly, us in a circle. “Quite the distress we are in!” I exclaimed. “Indeed!” Taeris agreed. There was a resounding shout as all the legends dropped their spears to point at the crowd, and began to close inward. Butchered one by one, the former Blackfyre supporters were, with no warning, and little rhyme or reason. Such was the twisted psyche of Aerion Morgan, and this simple display of tyrannical brutality and violence told me more about the young man than anything else could. “If only I had my swords!” Taeris growled, horrified and infuriated by the senseless violence. I was worried he might jump into action, and began to combat the guards with his bare hands. Although I had no doubt he would get far, there were too many, even for the Redcrash. “They would come quite in handy now!” I replied. “They seemed to have taken everything into account here. There is little hope for escape!” Things looked grim for us in that moment, they did indeed. “Halt, Aerion!” Taeris and I whirled towards the sound of the voice. Who would dare stand up to this maniac? Who would dare risk life and limb for a simple swordsman and his dutiful chronicler? There stood, and I exaggerate not, attentive reader, the most beautiful woman my eyes have ever dared lain themselves upon. Princess Rhaela, youngest daughter of the Emperor, arose from her seat, striking in her youth and control. Skin pink as a peach and a blush as red as a rose, with hair bleached by midnight, the youngest Morgan captured my attention immediately. I would later learn that she too was a frequent victim of Aerion’s, and had more than enough reason to stand up to him. “What is this?” Aerion demanded, already looking the buffoon. “You interrupt me in my hour of triumph?” “Triumph?” Her laughter, even in mockery, was as sweet and melodious as song. “You butcher innocents at your own wedding? Your own guests? You are a murder! A fiend and scoundrel, no better than to grace my boot heel with!” “Indeed!” It was her brother, Arik, who arose, as handsome as Rhaela was beautiful. “You witch! You bastard!” Aerion spat. “To the irons with the both of you!” Several guards whirled to the Prince and Princess, and for one moment I was filled with horror. Even the royalty would not be enough to save us from this madman. The spears lowered again. But then, one voice cried out. “Taeris Redcrash!” A slight figure slipped through a gap in the lines of soldiers. A young boy, no more than fourteen. In each hand was an ebony longsword. “Catch!” The swords flew through the air. Taeris lifted his hands. Each fell true to a palm. A hush ran over the room, like a single note had been struck, and remained ringing. He cocked a smooth smile. One foot slid back, the other forward. One sword was raised, the other held low. He looked to the guards nearest him. “Shall we begin?” Page 57 I gasped heavily as I clambered from the river, breathing into the sand. I looked up, directly into a bow aimed at my face. “Who’re you?” The bow’s owner demanded, a rather unlikely looking boy, with a slight frame and boring features. I opened my mouth to give my usual introduction, when three more joined him. A Khajiit, a Nord, and a woman. “Who’s this, Tyrus?” The woman asked. “He hasn’t said yet.” “I am Meilir Brevil.” I explained, steadily rising to my feet, Maia just behind me. She remained thankfully quiet, lest she sabotage this delicate situation. “Reknowned chronicler. I mean you no harm.” “Do you now?” The woman asked, skeptically. She had cruel, lean features, those that would appear attractive to a lesser man, or perhaps one with unselective taste. Her short red hair, fetching on other girls, did her no favors. “Then it shall be simple to take you for all you are worth. Torbjorn!” She beckoned the Nord. “Torbjorn take!” The thuggish lump of a man lumbered forwards, reaching for my valuables. “You will regret that!” I promised, warding this oozing monstrosity off. “I ride with Taeris Redcrash! And he now rides with Princess Rhaela and Prince Arik!” “Torbjorn, stop a minute.” The woman insisted, holding up a hand. “Torbjorn stop!” The Nord gurgled out. “Did you say the Princess and Prince?” “I did.” I assured her, glad to see something had gotten through. “We head west, to Hackdirt, fleeing the capital, on threat of death.” “Well you are in luck!” The woman said, her attitude changing on a dime, which I found highly suspect. “I am Catryn Crimson-Cloak, and these are my Crimson Brigands.” She said, gesturing to the misfits behind her. “We are outcasts from society, who seek only to raise the common man.” “I fail to see how emptying my pockets assists in that!” “You have my apologies. I did not realize you know someone I can mooch off of—I mean help in a noble and forthright quest.” “Yes, well, if your Crimson Brigands are as ruthless and unsavory as you, we can likely make good use of them.” I agreed. Page 102 …and that ‘tis what occurred in Hackdirt. No doubt, dear readers, you have heard of what has occurred to Hackdirt by now. I will spare you horrid details. The terror of what I saw. The images of children feasting upon corpses. Husbands and wives tearing each other limb from limb. Virgins slaughtered in sacrifice. I will spare you these things. But keep in mind Hackdirt. And the dark being that lurks there, for it will keep you in your mind. After Hackdirt, Taeris and I quested further west with the Royal Party, destined for Anvil now… Page 170 “No one bests Captain Gunnar!” The Pirate King roared, holding one of the many wounds Ollie had dealt him. “No one!” “You’re wrong there!” Cried Ollie Singlecut, raising his hand-and-a-half sword. He was a heroic figure, standing there against the sunlight, even for a lad. “For if no one has before, then we will certainly be the first!” But before the Killer of Corsairs could not halt the Pirate King, when he sent his henchmen and fled below deck. I was not there for the following battle, only hearing scraps and pieces after, but I know young Singlecut fought two to one odds, and came out on top. It was then Captain Gunnar arrived below deck. The freakish looking Redguard, with unkept, dark hair that reached his waist, and crazed eyes that rolling around in their sockets, totted a crossbow in his hands. “That boy embarrassed Gunnar!” The captain hollered, leveling the bow into the cell, straight at me. I recoiled in surprise. “And no one embarrasses Gunnar. So now you die!” He squeezed the trigger, the steel-headed bolt speeding my direction. I was no Taeris Redcrash, and even if I was, I had no sword to deflect the bolt. But I needed not to. A blast of lightning shot from the side of the cell, knocking the bolt from the air. “No one dies to today, Gunnar.” Edwin, the mage, declared, lowering his hand as he stepped forwards, powerful muscles straining against his robes. “No one but you.” Gunnar gasped, stumbling backwards, fear taking over his maniac’s eyes. “Bagarok!” Edwin called. We all ducked as the wall to our left was suddenly pulverized, admitting the oversized stone giant, Bagarok. He reached out, tore the door off our cell, and with his other hand seized Gunnar around the chest. “No! Please!” Gunnar begged. “Tava!” These were the last words he could utter because Bagarok cocked back his arm, assumed a stance, and tossed Gunnar clear through the outer wall of the ship. The pirate captain punched a hole in the hull, flying like an arrow, and went speeding off into the distance, screaming the whole way. I did not even see him crash. “Excellent work, Bagarok!” Edwin said, holding out his fist to bump it against the giant’s much larger one. It was very heartwarming. “That was a close one, I must say. I fear this was too much for me. You must drop me off at the next island—little do you know, my wife and five children are waiting for me. It has been long since I have seen them, but I am eager to.” There was much protesting, but as we left the brig and returned to the deck of the ship, we all knew in our heart of hearts that we must let Edwin go. Page 205 We strode into the palace on Cespar, and there I laid eyes upon another beautiful woman. Queen Kiara, of the Kingdom of Under Above. I daresay, loyal reader, that my eyes have been well-treated indeed on this journey. Nothing of note happening during our brief tenure in Cespar’s greatest city. Kiara welcomed us warmly and was a gracious host. She was eager for us to stay, but as we understood we could serve her better away from the city, she gave us our leave. Also during this time was when I meet the brutish and false Sir Loris, a Dragonguard, a man of handsome and excellent proportions, who had the soul and mind of a Hagraven. I hoped we would end up at opposite ends of a sword so Taeris could promptly put him in his place, but the situation never arose. A relief, perhaps, for had the Queen, and Dragonguard, seen the blademaster’s skill in all its primal glory, we may have been given a new job. Despite my immense loyalty to and respect for the Emperor, I feel my and Taeris’ days are better spent on the road, helping the common folk. Besides, if all Dragonguard are as eager to draw their swords to kill as Sir Loris was, I doubt anyone with the slightest ill intent approaches the Emperor alive. Page 223 Below the temple on Cespar we encountered Darkfriends, fiendish characters, and befriended a woman who suffered from a compulsive twitch named Eva. The Darkfriends were no match for Taeris and I, and with the help of our comrades... Page 246 …and so we settled into our home for the long spring, bidding our time, until duty rose again. But it would not be the last time Taeris Redcrash and Meilir Brevil took up arms in the Prince and Princess’ name. No, certainly not. '''THE END' Category:Works by Meilir Brevil Category:Books Category:Morgannic Canon